


a decent sense of time

by norikae



Category: K.A.R.D (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Light-Hearted, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 18:12:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19025239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norikae/pseuds/norikae
Summary: This just is how it goes. Somin is her usual caustic, bubbly self, burning him at the rate of fifty times a minute, and Taehyung just takes it, pretends he hasn’t been in love with her for the past three years of their lives, or something. Who’s counting?…God, it’sonlyTuesday.





	a decent sense of time

**Author's Note:**

> apologies in advance for any errors i only got karded like, forty eight hours ago . also um pretend jseph enlisted earlier and their age difference is two years so they were in the same year in uni so this makes more sense or something
> 
> thank u have Fun!!

On Tuesdays, Taehyung opens with Somin.

"Oppa, hurry the hell up, go, go, _go_ ," she's chanting, stamping her feet in the snow as he fumbles with the keys to the staff entrance of the thrift store they work in. Winter in Seoul bites, and it's snowed the night before, so it _is_ cold, and her impatience to get in makes perfect sense.

Still, Taehyung is only human, and his gloves make it extraordinarily hard to (1) select the right keys, and (2) navigate them into the slightly rusty lock. "Shh, I'm trying," he mumbles halfheartedly, jiggling the key he thinks should be the right one. They really should label them.

Behind him he can hear Somin give up, ceasing her childish stamping to stand still in the snow. "Well, try _harder_ ," she grumbles, "How hard can it be to open a damn door?"

Taehyung opens his mouth to answer - something about how _it's not as easy as you think it is, Somin-ah_ \- when the key he's managed to slide in turns with a click, and with a small victorious hoot he's pulling the door open, Somin rushing past him to get inside.

“I can’t believe we hire you to open doors and other exciting things,” Somin quips at him, shaking off her coat and unwinding her scarf. Her boots, shaken off, rest by the side of the door, and her brow is set low and unimpressed. “I’m telling boss you’re a waste of cash.”

Taehyung clutches at his chest, miming agony in response. “Somin. My beloved, dearest junior. How severely you wound my heart.”

She scoffs and heads in, shaking her hair out over her shoulder. “Like I would care if you had one to begin with,” she calls back, and then in the same breath, heading to their mini pantry, “Want a coffee or something?”

He hums, agreeable. “The usual.”

This just is how it goes. Somin is her usual caustic, bubbly self, burning him at the rate of fifty times a minute, and Taehyung just takes it, pretends he hasn’t been in love with her for the past three years of their lives, or something. Who’s counting?

…God, it’s _only_ Tuesday.

While she gets them both the coffees they’re going to need for their shift Taehyung sets about unlocking the register, sorting the books, and giving the store an overall check to make sure nothing strange got into their racks overnight.

This done, he checks his watch – 8.57 am – and decides it’s close enough, flipping the sign to _Open_ and going back to the counter where Somin is waiting on her chair. In Hongdae the crowd only really comes in at lunch and the late afternoon, anyway.

“I got you breakfast,” Somin announces, smugly, gesturing to the plate where a toasted croissant is waiting for him. “I had some time to stop by Ediya on the way here. Say thanks, and I’ll let you eat it.”

“What,” he says, bewildered. He really shouldn’t be – Somin has this way of being sweet at the least expected moments. He’s long known that. It doesn’t mean he’s used to it, though. “So that’s why you were late,” he quips instead, reaching for the plate.

…Which is tugged away from his grasp, sliding neatly across the table. “What did I say,” Somin drawls. “No food for you until you thank me.”

Bereft, Taehyung blinks rapidly, mouth open in objection. “You –“ he starts, and then abandons it altogether, sighing gustily before he concedes. “Thank you, Somin. Most beautiful, gracious, and kind. Can I please have my breakfast now?”

She beams and returns the plate. He grabs on to it, insecure, to make sure it doesn’t leave. “Of course. You’re welcome.”

He squints at her sideways, her messy hair and self-satisfied smile. “You’re so _annoying_ ,” he mumbles, and relishes in the sound of her peal of delighted laughter that follows.

  


\---

  


The thing is, there's no way she doesn't know how he feels. It feels like he's so obvious it's embarrassing.

There's a bunch of hip university age kids in their shop at the moment. When they'd entered they'd gravitated straight towards Somin to talk about the kind of clothes they were looking for, ignoring Taehyung almost completely. Which was fine, you know, _he'd_ ignore him for Somin, too.

Still, he rests his head morosely on his hands at the counter as he watches them go. It’s always _hi, Taehyung_ , never _how are you, Taehyung. What’s your opinion on this, Taehyung. How are you feeling, Taehyung?_

Well – they’re talking to her about fashion and thrifting in general, now, and if he’s going to be honest he knows nothing about either of those things. As in, he’s sitting here in a t-shirt worn under a jean jacket that he had let Somin coerce him into buying because she’d promised him it would make him look cool. He isn’t so sure how she’d feel if she saw the Birkenstocks he’d decided completed the outfit, but like, they’re comfortable, dude.

He squints up. Somin’s hands are waving wildly about as her voice crescendos and her speech gets faster, the way she always gets when she’s excited about a subject. Her passion is infectious; the group leans in, fascinated, and then they’re laughing too, bursts of _Really_? and _No way_! echoing along with the general cacophony of the group.

“No, really, really! So I put in _all_ this time and I’m always really _hunting_ new things down, right, and then there’s Taehyung-oppa – Taehyung-oppa, come here for a moment.”

Taehyung startles at the sound of his name. “What?” The group of five, including Somin, has all turned to stare at him, eyes bright and focused in his direction. He shifts awkwardly. “What’s this about?”

Somin makes a noise, and he hates how cute it is when her nose scrunches up in discontentment. “Come here,” she insists, voice on the verge of a whine. “I’m trying to show them something.”

He blinks slowly, but it’s impossible to say no to Somin when there’s something she wants. “Okay,” he says, and slides out of his comfortable seat, coming over to stand beside her. “What is it?”

As he approaches he sees one or two of the group eye him and muffle a giggle. He purses his lips. “What?”

Somin takes hold of him, sideways, and swings him into place, gesturing as she goes. “Denim jacket – courtesy of me. Band t-shirt, acceptable. Jeans… yeah, alright. But these - !”

Oh. She’s seen the ‘Stocks. Taehyung swats at her and raises his feet to inspect them carefully, accompanied by her scandalised cry. " _What_! Are these!"

“They’re comfortable,” he protests, plainly, “And easy to keep here since we can’t walk around indoors in boots.”

There's a sigh and an agreeable sound as the crux of her answer. “Tacky idiot.” Somin tiptoes and pets him on his head, then takes hold of him, spinning him around and shoving him back towards the counter in a clear dismissal from the conversation. Obediently, he goes.

Behind him, one of the girls sounds vaguely worried. “Somin-ssi,” she’s saying, carefully. “Isn’t that a little mean?”

“Yeah, but he’s _my_ tacky idiot,” she says. Flippant. “He knows what I mean.”

Does he? Does he _really_?

Back in his spot, safe and away from human interaction, Taehyung jabs the button of the pen into the table, chews on his lip, and tries his best not to scream.

  


\---

  


It’s late afternoon, and the long rays of sun slant in through the glass store front, dying the racks of clothes and other items in a curious glow of light as they go. Somin and Taehyung stand seeing off a customer, an elderly lady who’d spent the past two hours looking for affordable wear that, she said, reminded her younger days.

“It’s rare to find such a lovely young couple,” she tells them now, smiling fondly and clutching her paper bag of purchases to herself as she steps out the door. “Take care of yourselves, and each other, will you?”

“Oh, we’re not –“ Taehyung starts, but then he’s taken unawares by a sharp elbow jabbed straight to his ribs, knocking the air straight out of his lungs. “Ow,” he wheezes, a tear coming to his eye.

Somin’s voice completely overrides his protest as she waves vigorously, calling out her own reply. “Will do! Bye, Mrs Yoo! Have a nice day!”

Taehyung keeps up the matching grin until their customer is out of sight, then he sighs, knocking lightly into Somin with his side. “That keeps happening,” he points out, “And every time I still don’t know what to say.”

“You should just ask me out,” Somin says, pushing him in the shoulder. “It’d be easier like that.”

"What, just because they wouldn't be _wrong_?" He lets her manhandle him when she gets annoyed in answer, shaking him by the arm so his head lolls to and fro lazily.

“Okay, okay,” he concedes, laughing. He clears his throat, then asks, in a voice deliberately grandiose, “Jeon Somin, will you go out with me?”

At this, she lets go, turns to face him square on, and even though her mouth opens like she's about to call him names like she usually does, something seems to give her pause. She hesitates.

Says, very softly, “I thought you’d never ask.”

His brain grinds to a halt. It makes some desperate efforts to parse what it is that has just happened. His mouth opens, sputters, and eventually he manages to produce a “Wait, what, really?”

Somin is pouting for real now, brows knitted together with such ferocity he’s instinctively afraid of the wrath that no doubt is on its way. But there's something like uncertainty there, too, when she says, looking away, “Yes, really. Don’t make me say it, Kim Taehyung.”

“Oh,” he says, dumbly. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell.”

Somin rolls her eyes, tugging him towards her by the arm, and lets him intertwine their fingers gingerly. “I noticed,” she quips. "So, is that a yes?"

Carefully, he tugs at the join of their hold, as if to test that it's really there. "Yeah," he says, when it doesn't break. "...Yeah. Go out with me. For real."

Somin beams - really, truly, smiles so brightly that it takes over her face. Tiptoes suddenly and presses a kiss to his cheek. Her voice is soft against his ear when she says, "Okay."

Then, businesslike, she segues. “So, first date. You’ll buy movie tickets, I’ll buy dinner, we’ll take the train back to our respective houses because our job doesn’t pay shit. Okay?”

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Taehyung laughs. "Slow down, ranger."

But her hand is warm and sure in his, and he doesn't miss a beat when he says, "Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> [ twt ](http://twitter.com/frogbabey)


End file.
